


Longing

by Janamelie



Series: Back To Reality [1]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janamelie/pseuds/Janamelie
Summary: Rimmer's thoughts during the hallucination in "Back To Reality".  A direct prequel to my previous fic "Despair", but can be read independently.





	Longing

**Author's Note:**

> The very last line of this may confuse you if you haven't read "Despair", but the rest of the fic works as a stand-alone.

“This is a very, very bad dream, right?!”

Any reply he might have made died on Rimmer’s lips as he staggered to his feet, lost his balance and was caught by his bunkmate.  Lister.  Touching him again for the first time since-

“I’m not a hologram.”  Not a hologram.  Able to-  Lister was looking as dazed as he felt, gazing into his-

“What the hell happened to my teeth?!”

_ Stupid goited moggy. _

 

 

 

_ Typical. _

Obviously someone had been coming in regularly for the last four years to keep Lister - whoever the hell Lister really was - looking spick and span from the neck upwards, at least. Rather than spilling messily down his back, his locks were neatly caught up in a clip. Soft tendrils of hair framed his face becomingly.  Rimmer forced himself to stop staring like a moron as the memory of Lister’s hand on his arm continued to make him tingle.

Even Duane.  Despite the fun he was having rubbing in the fact that the ultra-fashionable and cool Cat was apparently an anorak-wearing geek in real life, Rimmer had seen his own reflection on the way to the Recuperation Lounge.  There were no words for the wild grey-white bush which passed for his hair.  Or rather, no good ones.

Ridiculous though Duane’s pudding bowl was, it did at least look as though it had seen shampoo and a hairbrush at some time during their lengthy hiatus in the game.  What kind of a loser was he if a man with a key to the Salvation Army hostel could afford that added extra and he couldn’t?

Still, not Rimmer, though.  That had to count for something, right?  

He cast another surreptitious glance in Lister’s direction.  Maybe once his damned memory had returned and he’d made an urgent trip to the nearest barber…

 

 

 

“Sir, I think you should take a look at this.  William, meet your brother, Sebastian.”

_ WHAT?! _

“Well, half-brothers - uterinal.  Same mother.”

_ Oh no.  No, no, no… _

This wasn’t him.  He had never had the slightest - feeling like that for any of his brothers.  Fear, resentment, loathing, yes.  Not the desire to-  He bit his lip, fighting back nausea.

 

 

 

Rimmer looked up as Lister emerged from the changing room and did a double take, his mouth hanging open.

“I look like everything I thought I was against.  I mean, Lister thought he was against.”

“I think you look very smart, sir.”

“If you like that overprivileged type,” Rimmer sniped half-heartedly, his eyes roving incredulously over the expensively tailored suit and overcoat, tasteful shirt and tie and various rings Lister was sheepishly wearing.  And was that a bracelet, for smeg’s sake?

“Rimmer, you’re my smegging brother!”  Lister grimaced.  “That still doesn’t sound right.  At all.”

“I can’t believe Dormouse Cheeks looks better than I do.  This is the last straw.”  Duane, who had already been loudly bewailing the collection of hideously cheap and unfashionable clothing he’d had no choice but to put on, got up and paced around the room, muttering “Duane Dibbley?” like a distressed mantra.

The noise, still audible behind the curtain, was Rimmer’s only comfort as he forced himself to dress in the stinking rags which were apparently Billy Doyle’s only possessions.  At least someone else was as miserable as he was, even if Duane had less cause, not being in l-  No.  It wasn’t true.  It couldn’t be.

 

 

 

“This is a crazy idea,” Kryten - no, Jake - was still protesting even as he moved through the doorway.  “We can’t leave now.  Our memories haven’t returned yet.”

“We’ve got to find out more about ourselves.  I refuse to accept I’m his alkie drop-out, yak coat-wearing half-brother,” Rimmer snapped back with a lot more confidence than he felt.

 

 

 

“Purify?!”

Rimmer didn’t know what was more disturbing.  The claims this scary fascist cop was making about Sebastian - no, Lister, he had to be Lister - or the way he’d reacted once he’d realised he was talking to the “Voter Colonel”.  A mixture of craven terror and - Rimmer shuddered - infatuated worship.

“No-one has done more to purge the ballot boxes than the Voter Colonel,” Fascist Cop retorted, clearly meaning it as a compliment.

“So why’s he been away for four years?” Duane piped up.

Of course it would be the Cat asking a sensible question in this smegged-up nightmare.  Naturally.

 

 

 

Billy’s heart pounded as they abandoned the swanky car, raced down an alley and came to a halt beneath a neon sign.  Sebastian put his hands on him protectively and guided him to a hiding place from the pursuing police.

_ Why did he do that?  Do mass murderers still care about their brothers then?  Clearly not all that much given the state I’m in. _

Exactly how much of a degenerate was this person he could no longer deny he was?  He wasn’t just a common-or-garden smelly wino.  He had just been touched by a man who was not only a mass murderer but his own BROTHER and all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch him back.  And kiss him, and-

“This is a nightmare.  I’m on the run from the fascist police with a murderer, a mass murderer and a man in a Bri-Nylon shirt!”

 

 

 

“I AM Rimmer?”  He felt quietly relieved and sombre at the same time.  Maybe he wasn’t an alcoholic loser, but he was still … him.

“I’m afraid so.”    _ Thanks so much, bogbot.  Twist the knife, why don’t you? _

 

 

 

He’d expected to feel better once they arrived back on Red Dwarf, but in fact it was the opposite.  He’d been in a situation where he could touch Lister and as usual, it had all gone to smeg. In this case because he’d thought they were related and the whole thing had turned so terrifying so fast, but there was always something, wasn’t there?

He slipped off as the others headed to the medibay for the check-up Holly and Kryten had advised.  He needed some alone time, now.  He had to get out some of this tension.  He could always claim he’d needed a nap after their ordeal.

He locked the bunkroom door and lay on his bunk, pulling his hologrammatic blanket over him just to be on the safe side, and curled a hand around his cock.  

But despite the vivid images of both Lister and Sebastian which were whirling around his head, somehow he couldn’t focus.  All he could think of was the thing which had been haunting him ever since Kryten’s announcement that he and Lister were related.  The same thing which had prompted him to tell the suicidal Jake: “I’m after you with the gun!”

He hadn’t cared.  Apparently he wanted Lister so much that even incest and orchestrated mass murder wasn’t enough to kill the pathetic boner he had for the man.  He was worse than that fascist-

Rimmer’s fingers slipped away from his cock as his eyelids fluttered closed.


End file.
